<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>and I read those pages, do you really love me, baby? by Anonymous</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23390752">and I read those pages, do you really love me, baby?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Pining, Slight Crossdressing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:54:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>814</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23390752</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Through books he fell in love with writing, understanding his own mind through words scribbled in passing time. It was in a convenience store, he ran his fingers over a leather bound notebook and slipped it in his jacket.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>and I read those pages, do you really love me, baby?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/homo_pink/gifts">homo_pink</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Being fourteen was an interesting year for Sam, he was composed of self-hatred and sweat and thoughts of the obscene. He spent most of that year confused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He's fifteen now, still drenched in sin, but with more understanding. He learned a lot from books, pages littered with depraved words that would scandalize the little old librarians he smiled at. Through books he fell in love with writing, understanding his own mind through words scribbled in passing time. It was in a convenience store, he ran his fingers over a leather bound notebook and slipped it in his jacket, along with a tube of lipstick. He couldn't explain the lipstick then, just a compulsion, he told himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's a year later, he's overflowing with sickness and it's spilling all over once-pristine paper. He's discovered explanations for almost everything, explanations that'll reach no further than words on a page. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He likes it when their lips are pretty pink.</span>
  </em>
  <span> A statement punctuated by Sam’s own lip print, the real reason he'd taken the lipstick.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Want him to fuck me over the impala, dirty up both of daddy’s pretty possessions.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Small hearts, colored red and dripping, cover the top of the page.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He learns the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>incest</span>
  </em>
  <span> from a presentation at school, the word is said in passing, about abuse, but it sticks with him. The word slips past his lips sweetly, said to an empty motel room. He's always called it a sickness, the title of </span>
  <em>
    <span>incestous thoughts</span>
  </em>
  <span> gives it more meaning, burns it hotter in Sam’s mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Too old to be sleeping with your brother.” Daddy you tried to protect me but you were too late, my brain was already fucked up.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sam still curls up to Dean when dad’s away, which is most of the time. He presses himself against his brother and lets strong arms lull him to sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He might love me if I'm pretty like those girls.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sam sneaks into the girls locker room, he snags a pair of panties, purple, soft, beautiful. He shaves his legs, wears the panties, wears the lipstick, still not pretty enough for Dean. Not that Dean will ever see what Sam does behind dirty motel bathroom doors.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I love you” shouldn't mean so much when it's said by your brother. We’re supposed to hunt monsters, how did I end up being one? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam writes a lot in the mornings, waking at two with an ache in his chest and pants. Dean’s prettiest while he sleeps, Sam craves to trace Dean’s lips and throat with his tongue. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I bet he tastes like heaven.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sammy,” drawn-out and childish, it means trouble, “I found your diary.” Sam’s across the room faster than he thought he could move, snatching the book from Dean’s hand. Sam grips the book and silently thanks a god he doesn't care for, he finds a new hiding spot while Dean sleeps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If he reads this will he hate me? If he hates me will the yearning stop? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sam’s journal is kept closer than his gun at times, secrets like his need to stay secret.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean doesn't clean up after himself, he loses things all the time, so when he leaves for supplies Sam grabs one of his shirts, it won't be missed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He smells like home. Safe.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The shirt is shoved in his duffle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next time Sam tries to pretty himself up in a motel bathroom he completes the look with Dean’s shirt, hanging loosely despite their similar height. The fleeting thought of Dean fucking him just like this prompts a cold shower. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Slut. Slut. Slut. Slut. Slut. Slut.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Mrs. S wants a paper about our dreams and how we react to them. </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Sticky shorts and incestous sex in graveyards.</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> I wrote about werewolves, it feels close enough, having my heart ripped out and eaten. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The rest of the page is taken up by an all too detailed drawing, Dean with blood coated lips and a pointed tooth smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dad drags them from one town to the next long past midnight, he's tired and he makes a mistake, he leaves the journal in the front pocket of his duffle. Dean digs through that part sometimes, needing toothpaste or some other thing he forgot. Sam wakes to the sight of Dean sitting on the second bed, reading through a year’s worth of Sam’s worst thoughts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean?” A cautious question, he can't exactly pull off ‘it's not what it looks like’.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come here, Sammy,” Dean pats the bed, like he's calling a dog. Sam's always followed Dean around like a lost puppy, he sits right next to Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean wraps his arm around Sam, “I'm not gonna eat your heart,” his gaze is fixated on the drawing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don't you hate me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never,” Dean moves the journal, pulling Sam into his lap, “I wanna see you dressed up, show me how pretty you can be for me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So I love love love the concept of young Sammy Winchester's diary and I was inspired by homo-pink's tumblr tag and fic. Hope y'all like this short little thing, leave feedback if you did! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>